


Turn me off

by Dystopico



Category: RWBY
Genre: Female Solo, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Other, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5794135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dystopico/pseuds/Dystopico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days there's just one thing in mind, and one thing to do: skip class to relieve some tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn me off

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to something written in one go, with much fun by my side and, I hope, yours too that are going to read it. Have fun!

The heiress would never admit it, but she had 24 hours in which she almost ruined her precious voice. She started soon in the morning, when a tingling sensation around her navel made her uncomfortable and woke her up. She was no naive, she knew what her body was asking her, and she thanked some old deity for the deep sleep of the two sisters. Blake could still be a problem, though, so she made everything she could to limit her movements and noises: planting her feet steadily into the mattress, she bent her knees, so that the bedsheets wouldn't brush against her hands; also, her nightgown could easily make a little too much noise, so she rose it, exposing her bare stomach and panties. Fancy, as she liked them, even if she hadn't anyone specific to show them.

That wasn't a problem, though: with the agreement she had with Yang, Blake and Pyrrha, the four of them could do as they pleased between themselves, as long as there wasn't an explicit preference. What good would it come if the fake jealousy “punishments” that sometimes issued between them would become real?

She turned her head, looking at the bed at the same level as hers. Blake was still sleeping, her breath light and her expression peaceful, but the heiress knew what the faunus could turn into. More than once, when they decided to have a night for themselves, she had to use a little more make-up than usual, for the slightly pointy fangs of the black haired girl buried themselves a little too deep, carving red lines and points. She didn't mind, though: the way Blake could do that in the right moment, just before she was going to reach cloud nine, was something unique, a sensation sometimes too overwhelming.

But then, the amber eyes were closed, unaware that she was being observed as if Weiss could see what was under the blanket, the bedsheets, the black and, admittedly, provoking yukata the faunus used as pyjamas. Remembering more than one occasion in which the white teeth flashed in front of her face, satisfied as the heiress used her voice to sing a melody of lust, Weiss brought her hands over her naked breasts, slowly groping and massaging them, feeling her nipples getting harder by the second under her palms. She could almost feel the faunus' lips on her own, kissing her tenderly once before claiming them with strength. Leaving only her right hand to tend to her breast, she brushed her middle finger on her mouth: her upper lip first, the lower immediately after, following the pattern Blake's tongue used every time she kissed her to say she wanted her, right there and then.

After she could feel her lips going on fire for the mere memory of that, she returned on massaging her breasts, still looking at the peaceful expression of the faunus, paying attention to control her breathing. She found out, while being with the other three girls, that a few minutes of attention to her chest was enough to make her almost come. She didn't knew before, even though she enjoyed her self-taught sessions, mainly because she didn't pay much attention on the movements her fingers could make. Brushing on the outside and circling inwards, she created a spiral that would linger for a moment on her light pink areola. Once there, she used her thumb and middle finger to pinch her erect nipples, pulling them only for a fraction of second, making blood rush towards them and a shiver start from them.

A single gasp exited her mouth, making her close her mouth shut, worried someone could have heard it. Yang and Ruby kept on sleeping, while Blake simply turned around, giving her back to the heiress.

Relieved, Weiss rested her head on the pillow, focusing on a point far away from the bed on top of her. More than her vision, she was focusing on the heat she was feeling all throughout her body, but especially on her chest and her core. Brushing her legs together, she could feel that, probably, she would have to visit her favourite lingerie store again, for the unmistakable sensation of damp was there. A little upset, but already thinking about that open lace panties that she saw in the boutique, she moved her left hand, her fingers ghosting on her smooth and toned skin. Some would say that she was a narcissistic person, but the reality is that she loved how her body reacted more than the body in itself.

Goosebumps appeared on her stomach and spread, like an electric spark going anywhere. She loved how even the lightest touch, if done in the right mindset, was enough to let her moan, even when she shouldn't. To repress her voice, she found herself biting her lower lip, her teeth pinching the soft flesh and making her realize how much she liked that sensation of mild pain. She needed to do it, or else she would have awaken her team, but it was only temporary: she knew precisely the moment in which nobody should have been in that room.

Continuing her path down the pale skin, her fingers finally found the first hint of lace. The white of the panties, she knew, could have already be compromised by her recklessness, but at that point she didn't care any more, for the sensation was only growing stronger instead of being dissipated by the soft teasing, as it happened a lot of times before. Without waiting another second, she put her hand beneath the fabric, finding, as she thought, a wet spot on the lace and an even wetter one between her lower lips. She cursed for her own behaviour, but she started stroking her middle and ring finger between the two folds, up and down, keeping her palm pressed on her mons pubis.

She liked it delicate, she always had a preference for that type of pace, but she couldn't believe herself when after only thirty seconds her breath was already heavy, her mind shutting down the unnecessary functions. She had been good at finding her sweet spots, years and years of practice and self discovery had their good results, but that state of arousal was something she didn't experienced before, not even after Yang showed her for the first time how to use a dildo. That had been quite the show to masturbate to, and the part where she was on the receiving side was good, too.

With the sensation of her voice desperately trying to exit, she pressed harder between her petals, moving her fingers a little faster, letting herself feel the inevitable happen faster. As she was right about to come undone, she forgot about her breasts at all and used her right hand on her clit, brushing it as lightly as possible: that single motion tipped her over the edge, making her come, her vocal chords blocked by sheer force of will.

Her left hand kept on going, letting her slowly come back to reality not without prolonging her pleasure, until her senses came back fully functional. Her eyes still had some problem focusing on the right spot, but she could feel again the sweat on her skin, the heat under the, surely, wet bedsheet, and the sound of her own panting, along with her heartbeat that was still high. She kept her hands where they were, indulging in keeping her arousal level a little higher than none, waiting for the day to start.

After several minutes, she could hear all three of her teammates waking up, moving in their beds. “Good morning,” she said with a sweet voice she didn't know she was capable of.

“'Morning Weiss,” a high voice answered from over her head, as Yang grumbled something.

“Goodmor-” Blake started, sitting in her bed, but halted herself and turned her head towards the heiress. She stood still for a moment, looking up and down Weiss' body for a couple of times before a sly grin appeared on her face. “Good morning indeed...” the faunus said with a sultry voice. That voice activated the worst part in Weiss' brain, making her heart race and her face blush: it was the same tone Blake used when she was about to do something to her.

“Yeah… Girls, I'm not feeling well today. I'll just rest, if it's okay with you,” the heiress mumbled, incapable of move her eyes from the amber ones that were telling her something without wording it: “I know.”

“Something we can do for you, Weissy?” Yang asked, immediately concerned about her teammate. “Do you want us to stay here to...”

“No!” Weiss exclaimed a little too loud, finally breaking eye contact with Blake. “No, I mean, I'm sure it's nothing, but if it's contagious it would be bad if all four of us to catch it, don't you think?”

“Yeah, but you should take care of yourself,” Ruby said, jumping down her bed and looking at the heiress. “And I'm talking to you two, too: some days you just can't get up and even if you do, you have the stupidest smile on your faces all day. What do you do to reduce yourselves like that?”

The three girls exchanged looks, knowing exactly what their leader was referencing to, but refused to speak a word about it. They knew Ruby would be shocked, mostly because she probably could never understand how they could allow themselves to waste so much time, but she would be shocked nonetheless.

“Fine, have it your way. Yang, Blake, five minutes to change and then we're in Professor's Goodwitch class. Weiss, you stay there and don't do anything beside resting. I want you up and running for tomorrow, we have to revise come combat schemes.”

“Yeah… Sure…” the heiress mumbled as her attention was being caught by the rather revealing outfit Yang used to go to bed in. Short top, even shorter pants: she liked when the brawler chose those as clothes while they closed themselves in the dorm room's bathroom. One time, late at night, they sneaked out of their beds just to met one another in there: as soon as Weiss entered, Yang closed the door, locked it, and pinned her against it, covering her in kisses. They liked the false thrill of knowing someone could want to take a shower, but they knew it was highly improbable. That time, Yang made sure that the pale back of the heiress would be against most flat surfaces, especially the shower ones. The warm water, the even hotter body of the brawler, was something that drove her mad, for she mainly liked to play with cold things, such as ice cubes and ice Dust.

As if she was still there, Weiss' body reacted by heating up, causing her face to turn a bright red. Snapping back to reality, she found herself still staring at an immobile Yang, who was limbering up in a way that, she was sure from the blonde's patented grin, was just to show Weiss her assets: extending her arms downwards, squeezing her ample chest between them and bending over, causing the black shorts to be extremely adherent to her rear, so much that Weiss knew the blonde had decided to go commando for the day. After the show ended, the heiress smiled and Yang winked in return before starting to change her clothes. Who didn't move, either, was Blake, still sitting in her bed.

Weiss looked left and right and, looking as the two sisters were far enough to let her speak with relative freedom, gestured the faunus to come closer. Blake did so with an amused smile on her face and knelt beside the heiress. “So… Having fun?” she asked with the same, lustful voice.

“How did you…?”

The faunus smirked and tapped her nose. “You should know by now that I can know when and how someone had fun by her mere scent. And yours is rather strong right now.”

Weiss' hand moved on her own, brushing her wet folds as an answer to the extremely sultry tone. She let herself pant for a couple seconds, locking her eyes with Blake's, whose lightened up with a strange light.

“Never thought I'd see the day where I'd wake up and have a nice show to start my day,” the faunus chuckled. “Need some incentive, princess?”

Before Weiss could say anything, Blake spread her legs and raised a little the already short yukata, showing her simple, black underwear. She looked behind herself, making sure that the other two girls were still deciding what to eat, before sliding her hand under the fabric and start making large, slow circles with her fingers.

Weiss moaned at what she was seeing, increasing her own pace, her already tired hand doing the impossible by concentrating on her clit. The sticky juices she was feeling between her legs started flowing again, risking to create a new type of noise she had been able to avoid before. “Blake...” Weiss pleaded, rubbing her thighs together.

“Not now, dear,” the faunus answered gently, removing her hand from between her legs, “but know this.” She brought her fingers in front of the heiress' face, letting them shine in the morning light with her own dew.

It was too much, and Weiss didn't even know why. It looked like the most insignificant thing was enough to increase her arousal. Not caring about the presence of the other girls in the room, driven only by what was her most important physical need right then, she frantically moved her fingers, reaching the limit in the shortest time. Again, heat and faded vision arrived, along with the harsh breathing that threatened her to get caught by her team leader, who was laughing with Yang.

She closed her eyes, ready to let her body fall numb under her expert touch. Her body tensed up and her mouth opened, ready to let her burning lungs empty with her most intimate melody, but not one note managed to exit. Cupping her face, Blake kissed her, deeply, absorbing all of the heiress' air and moan, for all the several seconds it lasted. Only when the white haired girl started kissing back, the faunus released her, allowing a very tired and breathless Weiss to calm down.

“You are quite something, you know that?” Blake joked, wiping away the sweat drops that were on Weiss' forehead. She indulged for a moment, passing her fingers through the white hair, letting Weiss feel how messy they already were.

“Thanks,” the heiress breathed as her breath normalised. Blake smiled and got up, letting the girl in bed see that no one heard her.

After a couple of minutes Yang, Ruby and Blake exited the room, finally leaving the heiress on her own. As first thing, she took off the bedsheets from her, allowing herself to see how bad the situation was. Her pale skin was a light pink, warm, glistening with a layer of sweat that was starting to become sticky. Under her rear, she could feel it, what began as a small spot had become a wide, damp stain that would have been able to show everyone what kind of state she was in. The nightgown, all crumpled from being raised over her breasts for all that time, was in no better conditions, while her white panties were starting to stick on her skin from the amount of juices they had to absorb.

Figuring she would be in that state for at least the morning, Weiss got rid of both the pieces of clothing she had on, tossing the nightgown on the floor and holding the wet panties in her hand.

The proof of her arousal was there, showing her with touch, smell and sight what she had done. As if mesmerised by it, Weiss found herself inhaling her own scent, keeping the panties about at the same height as her chest. She always had a doubt whether or not her nectar actually had a vanilla flavour, but always refused to taste for herself; luckily, Yang had no restraints when it came to use her tongue, and her talkative nature confirmed what the heiress thought. Since then, the faint, sweet smell was enough to make a shiver run down her spine, creating goosebumps on her back and arousing her. Useless to say, the times such aroma was used in some cake served in the cafeteria, she made sure to have one between Pyrrha, Yang or Blake on front of her, ready to tease her under the tables. Once, Pyrrha actually pretended to have dropped something only to give her a quickie, testing really hard the cool face the heiress had learnt at her family's company. The expression on the amazon's face as she emerged again, licking her lips to wipe off the remaining drops of nectar and with her emerald eyes telling Weiss she owed her one, often returned in her mind when she was taking care of herself, and that day was no different.

Letting the ruined panties fall between her legs, Weiss sat straight, leaning her back on the wall. She spread her legs and let the back of her head hit the wall as she returned massaging her breasts.

Soft, but firm, were appreciated by every girl she knew and even more by those who managed to see them, feel them, bite, suck, lick them. Her fingers massaged them, imagining as if they were Pyrrha's, holding her from behind. The redhead maybe appeared as shy and reserved, but when she started seeing her without any kind of clothing on, Weiss acknowledged another side of her personality: an even more caring one, that showed only with the heiress. She didn't knew why, but from what she heard while the four girls exchanged opinions about each other, Pyrrha showed caring and gentle only with her. Yang swore more than once the amazon almost made her faint from how seriously she took their encounters, while Blake only praised her knowledge about ropes and knots.

As if she was there, Weiss imagined Pyrrha caressing her as if she was picking a delicate flower, careful not to put too much pressure on it or it would wither. Soft, almost imperceptible, her touch was her signature, something that every time she experienced it, the heiress was amazed by how skilful it was. First, as always, on the breasts: cupping them as Pyrrha's body was placed on the muscular back of the heiress, letting her feel protected and intimate with just a sweet embrace.

Starting from the outside, Weiss mimicked the moves of those fingers she learned to love: to begin with, brushing and circling the outer part of the mounds, slowly making her relax while exchanging lazy kisses and caresses. Then, after Weiss started getting into it, the hands passed on covering both the breasts simultaneously, using only the palms to give a gentle pressure on the nipples, every time getting them hard in a matter of seconds. As that was taken care of, and the first drop of sweat run between the pale tits, Weiss remembered the sensation of Pyrrha's hands following her figure, her fingertips tracing an intricate net on her sides, legs, stomach, but never going near her core, teasing the heiress with such sweetness that it never was frustrating or malicious. Only that, as Weiss did it to herself, was enough to make her soaking wet. Also, as much as she didn't like to admit it, the occasional words the amazon said with her deep, warm voice in the heiress' ear, helped a lot to almost make her come, even if her most sensitive spots hadn't been even brushed.

As her breathing became heavy and that transformed into panting, Weiss did exactly what Pyrrha did every time she noticed the heiress' condition: she would pass a single finger between her folds, slowly, lazily, not even pressing that much, collecting the vanilla-scented nectar. Raising the finger in front of her, she saw it glimmer before returning it to her slit, this time sliding it inside, not rushing it, allowing her walls to welcome it. It wasn't needed, for every time the amazon did that there hadn't been a single problem, but Weiss imagined it was something she liked to see and feel: the very core of a person, opening to the intrusion of something else. It had something poetic in it.

At that point, usually Weiss was a mess: heavy panting, hands unable to do anything beside holding Pyrrha's wrist and knee, so she allowed herself to have the third orgasm in a rather short period the same way Pyrrha gave her. She crooked her finger, immediately finding her most sensitive spot, and moved it in and out with a steady pace: nothing too fast, but enough to let her build up in a fairly short time.

As the walls started clenching rhythmically around her digit, she knew it was time to end it: her thumb ghosted over her clit, brushing one, two, three times before pressing harder. That was it, and Weiss' vision became obstructed by a lot of lights. Unlike the other ways she could gave herself pleasure, that was the one that allowed her to be as silent as possible, maybe because, in the very moment of her ecstasy, Pyrrha would kiss her tenderly, making her heart melt with sweetness.

She let her numb body regain functionality, slowly coming to senses after what felt like several minutes of blissfulness, her legs and arms becoming able to move again but feeling heavy and hard. Again, her fingers had been covered with a thin layer of liquid that was already becoming extremely sticky: that, combined with the overall sensation of tiredness and general uncleanness her rampage had brought her, convinced her to head for the shower.

Carefully, she tried moving all her limbs, testing her body's ability to obey her orders. Not that she needed that, for what she had been experiencing since earlier was far enough to let her know she had perfect control over it, but the fact the lower part of her body was starting to be slightly insensitive was not a good sign for how she would continue that day. Still, stronger than the numbness, that itch was not gone, whispering to her with the smoothest voice to continue, to lose herself in the darkness her eyes would bring every time she would close them. Like an animal whose meal had been postponed far too many times, she breathed deeply, inhaling through her nose and expelling all the air the burning lungs could hold through her mouth, before getting on her feet.

The floor under her felt like moving, her knees bent under her own little weight, forcing her to grasp the bunk bed to stay upright. After a few seconds of slightly dizzyness, caused by her far too quick standing up, she felt her legs responding better, allowing her to make the necessary steps.

Completely ignoring the nightgown and panties laying on the floor, she went for the wardrobe she shared with her teammates: one drawer each, in which they mainly kept underwear and the few things they didn't want the other girls to see, be it a memento from their past lives or something they had dear. Weiss, in particular, hid a black box on the furthers corner of the drawer, under a couple of papers with the Schnee Dust Company logo on them: it was nothing but headed paper, but it was enough to tell the other three girls in the room that was nothing they should touch or be interested in, making it a perfect and low cost solution to her privacy problems.

The heiress took the box, feeling again the same little shiver she had the first time she had it in her hands. A couple of years before, when she still lived at the Schnee's mansion, she had few ways to know anything about herself and her body. Mainly trial and errors, experiments, as she liked to call them, that took many retries to be sure of the results, and searches after searches on her scroll, making sure nobody could ever disturb her or catch her in the act. A couple of times she had to ask Winter for an argument or two she didn't find exhaustive explanation about, and her sister, calming her and wiping away the embarrassed look on her face, gave her the informations she was looking for.

But even her fairly understanding sister couldn't stop her for being attracted towards the wide world of the adult toys for recreational use. From the smallest to the biggest, from the most simple in design to the most elaborate ones, the time spent on specialised sites looking at shapes, dimensions and functions was a way as another to spend time and increase her knowledge, in addition to discover what she would like to try.

As she saw for the first time the product in the fine box she was holding, she knew it was love at first sight. With a sly smile, she opened the leather lid, revealing its content: two light blue, bullet-shaped objects, placed one beside the other with their tips pointing opposite directions. Smooth, shiny and not exaggerated in size, they were a very peculiar type of vibrators, as she found out that day two years before, reading the specifications on the producer’s site. The fact they didn't had levels of intensity, but rather a continuous dial on their bottom that could gradually increase or decrease the strength of the vibration was a nice touch, sure, as it was their discreet shape and packaging and the guaranteed water resistance up to several hundred meters of depth, but what made her tap into her monthly allowance was the description of their use.

For reasons she never understood, she, and her family, had always been associated with winter, cold, ice, so it came to her as no surprise when she found out that the touch of an ice cube could, ironically, make her melt in a matter of seconds. The only problem was how to incorporate that feeling into her private time: sure, ice was nice and easy to gain access to, but it also melted fairly quickly, not allowing her to indulge in long, relaxed sessions, not to count that it got harder and harder to explain the wide water spots on her bedsheets. She did try, once, to use some grains of Ice Dust on her fingertips, but the fact she only had access to the purest type of it caused the unpleasant side effect of having goosebumps for several days; she only had to thank her good sense she tried it on her stomach first and didn't immediately put it between her legs.

For those reasons, when she saw that the set of two vibrators had a custom made system to pour Dust into them, she nearly squealed with excitement. In a few moments she requested those and a dozen vials of her own company's weak Ice Dust, compiled the form and, after selecting the quickest shipping options, she closed the order.

Then, in her team's room, she assured that the batteries of at least one of the two vibrators were full: she took the bottom one out of the box and turned the dial on the bottom. The toy begun to emit a low buzz, along with a soft vibration that turned the heiress' expression into a mischievous grin. She turned it off and put away the box, taking with her one faint blue vial that was beside it before closing the drawer.

Still smirking, she hurried herself to the bathroom and closed the door behind her with a slam. The white of the furniture, the walls and the flooring may have been considered boring by many students, but Weiss liked it that way: it was easier to hide eventual residuals of any improper action that could take place in there.

She immediately entered the shower, closing the glass door tight so that not one drop could wet the floor, and turned on the water. The first seconds it fell on her hot skin, the water was freezing, the heater needing a little time to warm it, but the heiress didn't care: she could shower independently from the temperature of the water, sometimes preferring to exit the bathroom feeling her body colder and number than when she entered it.

As the heater did its job and the temperature rose, Weiss concentrated on the objects in her hands. She unscrewed the security lid on the Dust vial, tossing it over the shower door, and connected its valve to the small opening in the middle of the vibrator's dial. Turning both objects so that the vial was upside down, the faintly coloured substance quickly disappeared into the toy, adding little weight to it. After shaking it a little and making sure even the last grain of Dust had been emptied inside it, Weiss detached the vial, hearing the soft hiss she learned to associate to a very good time. In a few seconds, the vibrator started getting colder, in contrast to the water running down her hair and spine, washing away part of the sweat she accumulated.

Grasping to the little self control she had left, her mind cleared enough to let her put the toy on the little soap dish Yang bought that was standing on the wall thanks to some kind of suction the flat rubber surface gave it. Since she first saw it, she asked Yang why would they need such a thing, since the shower already had a little metal shelf where they put the several bottles of soap and hair products, but the only answer the brawler gave her was an evil chuckle and a single sentence: “I like its shape.”

As Weiss quickly grabbed the liquid soap and began washing herself, she stared at the little accessory that so much gained Yang's curiosity: a round, flat surface held it against the wall, even if there was a hole in the upper half of it. The little shelf itself, big enough for a soap bar and with a hole in it to let the water run through it, could be moved up and down, so that, if closed, it would be extremely thin, something, the heiress reasoned, that was unnecessary, since it would always be in that position.

Her hands moved almost frantically on her silk skin, brushing just enough to let the heiress feel the stickiness and tiredness be washed away. Her fingers rubbed every inch they could easily reach, not bothering to hide their harsher touch when it came to Weiss' sensitive body parts, something that made the heiress' breath accelerate. She rubbed her stomach thoroughly, feeling her abdominals contract at her touch, her muscles reacting at what they have been conditioned to recognise as a lustful stimuli.

Her core almost started to be in pain as she moved both hands downwards, groping her inner thighs but refusing to go directly at the most needing region, merely brushing her outer lips and feeling her own arousal had already began to have effect. Biting her lower lip, her breathing deep and rapid going only through her nose, she moved the middle finger of her left hand, placing it between her doubly wet folds. As soon as they were touched, her arm moved on its own, rubbing in circular motion the digit and forcing her to rest against the wall, her hips moving forwards, arching her back so that her core would be easier to be stimulated.

She kept on going for a while, the steaming water hitting her chest and creating innumerable rivulets between and around her breasts, adding heat to her body's. Both the hot air and the steam was making her breathing a little difficult, along with the arousal: right then, Weiss decided, it was the right time to bring in the vibrator.

With an already tunnelled vision, she used her right hand to reach the toy, but accidentally pulled both it and the small shelf, letting them both fall. Rolling her eyes, the heiress bent to grab the toy. Her eyes were so focused on it that she almost missed what happened to the rubber shelf: it was closed, with the big round part already adherent to the white shower tray, but that wasn't what made her stare. The two holes, the ones on the shelf and the supporting part, aligned perfectly. It could have been a design choice, but when Weiss recognised the logo on the lower part and it all made sense to the heiress: the chuckle, the shape that so much interested Yang, it all pointed to one thing and one thing only.

With her heart beating so hard it almost covered the noise of the running water that was hitting her, Weiss grabbed the vibrator, shivering as she felt it was cold as ice, just like she wanted it to be. Holding it from the tip, she placed the base over the hole, pushing it slowly as she was still unsure about her theory. When the toy slid into position without much effort, the heiress laughed, hard: the shelf Yang tried to sell as harmless had another use, the one of a holder. Weiss tried moving the vibrator a little, seeing how it behaved, but it simply returned upright, the suction from the base keeping it in place.

“You have my thanks, Yang,” the heiress laughed before wiping away the water from her face.

She removed both objects from their position and, after setting the vibrator to a rather intense strength, placed them in the middle of the shower, a little close to the wall, so that she would have a support if anything went wrong. After making sure everything was in place and stable, she knelt and placed one knee on each side of the toy, seeing a little cloud of steam exiting every side of it from the cold. Closing her legs a little, she could feel the chilling temperature from quite the distance: that alone, she felt, made both her lips water with anticipation.

She raised herself a little to align her core with the buzzing toy and, after grabbing the vibrator with her left hand to guide it better, she lowered herself on it. The cold first made her shiver, but as soon as the tip passed her outer lips and slowly entered her, she let out a long, loud moan. Weiss closed her eyes and moved her head backwards, letting the hot water hit her face, as she enjoyed the mixture of sensations the cold object inside her was giving her: she chose it well that day, for it was not too big, those kind of toys never interested her, but it was enough to let her fill pleasantly filled; also, the rather thin shape of it made possible to angle it as she wanted, allowing her to reach every single one of her sweet spots.

Cold and vibrating with a fast pace, the toy was enough to make her breath heavily even without any movement from her side, but the burning feeling of her lower abdomen was telling her to go all out on it. So, following the advices of her own body and mind, she slowly started rocking her hips forwards and backwards, helping herself with her right hand on the wall.

The simple movement brought her to panting in mere seconds, her left hand tending her breasts helping her in that. The cold and hot from top and below made the heiress remember the first time she showed the couple of toys to Yang: she even bought a couple of depowered Fire Dust vials just for the occasion. After that night, the heiress and the blonde had to make an agreement to use those toys a maximum of once every month; any more frequently would make them walk funnily for far too many days.

With her hand focusing on the nipples, twisting the erect buds and even coming to pinch them with her nails, giving herself jolts of pleasurable pain, Weiss could move the rest of her body at the pace she wanted, slow or quick. After an entire night spent testing how long a single vial of Dust would last inside the vibrator, she found out that, after the initial thirty minutes of peak, the effect would slowly wear off in about five hours, also considering the time the sensation was barely noticeable. Then, in the shower, she wanted her pleasure to reach and maintain a level for a while before giving herself the last push towards ecstasy.

She kept on moving her pelvis, varying the speed and intensity of her thrusts in a rhythmic way: she started slow, accelerating and increasing the strength of her movements until she reached a rather quick pace and kept it for a minute or so, almost reaching her limit before tuning it down, going so slow that she could catch her breath, but not enough to let her arousal to vanish completely. Her chest was on fire, from the water running on it and from the air that so harshly entered her lungs, causing her moans to be choked out sometimes, her throat modifying her voice into something so lascivious she was turned on by her own little screams of pleasure echoing in the room.

After a long time, when two distinct kind of wet noises could be heard along with continuous panting and groaning, Weiss decided to end her session, so that she could still finish her shower before her teammates would come back for any reason. She turned her body and faced the wall, so that she could spread her legs more. Doing so, she let the still ice cold toy enter her more and hit one specific point in her upper wall, the one she kept for herself and used only when that vibrator was involved.

As the tip brushed against it, she could feel her inner walls almost crush the toy and her breath getting cut. She closed her eyes and used what remained of her strength to give the final push unto orgasm: fast, hard, without a rhythm, she moved her hips forwards and backwards, up and down, until, almost letting herself fall on the vibrator, she came undone. Every muscle in her body clenched, reducing her to a contracted mess shook by regular shivers that started from her core and spread everywhere, not even allowing her to voice her pleasure.

She stood there, the vibrations and the chill still inside her, for long minutes, as she rested her forehead on the wall, letting the water run through her hair and down her back, washing away the copious amount of juices she produced. Only when her soreness made her legs ache she decided to make herself at least presentable.

Weiss raised herself as much as she needed for the toy to exit her, the vibrations sending small drops of water and nectar all around the shower. She grabbed the iced toy and, after removing it from the base, she turned it off, stopping one kind of noise that had been resonating inside her for the whole length of that shower. She also took the shelf before slowly getting on her feet, leaning against the wall for support. She placed the rubber, double use shelf back in place, opened it and put the vibrator on it.

After a couple of deep breaths, she began to feel normal again, even if the soreness between her legs and, in general, all around her midsection was even more bothersome than before. Grabbing yet another dose of soap, she began washing herself up, trying to be as delicate as possible to avoid any unwanted reaction.

As she was washing her breasts, she found her eyes getting filled with tears. She was tired and annoyed by her behaviour in that day: even if she had experienced physical love, more than once and with more than one person, she had never been like that, driven by nothing but animalistic instincts. She was a young girl and she had her quota of days in which she felt a little flirty, with a desire of doing something more risqué than usual, but that side of her had always been controlled and collected, it never exploded like it did that day.

She was almost scared by herself, and what terrified her is the thought that mindset could last for more than she could take.

Her tears mixed with the hot water as her hands, slightly trembling, massaging her arms with slow and long movements, trying to calm herself with the warm touch. As she was beginning to feel a little better, a knock came from the door of the bathroom.

“Weiss? Are you in there?”

“Yang...” the heiress whispered, her throat not functioning as it should have. After coughing a couple of times, she raised her voice: “Yang! I'm showering. Door's open.”

The glass panel in front of her was completely fogged from the long time the water had been running, but she could still see the bright blonde shape of Yang's hair coming inside the room.

“I'm back early 'cos my match was far too short… Weiss, how long have you been here? It's like a sauna!” the brawler chuckled.

“Yang...” the heiress repeated, but her voice cracked mid-word.

“Weiss? What's wrong?” Without waiting for an answer, the blonde opened the glass door.

The heiress didn't even bother covering herself: Yang and her shared nights so many times it would be hypocritical from her to be embarrassed. What really made her wanting to hide were the tears, running down her cheeks.

“Weiss, what happened?” Yang asked, looking at the trembling girl. She looked her from head to toes, indulging for a moment on the vibrator beside her.

“Yang, I'm not okay,” the heiress managed to say, grasping her own arms over the chest. “I don't know what happened to me, I'm like an animal! I can't stop, I…” her words failed as she started sobbing.

“Hey, hey,” Yang whispered softly. “Don't worry. Blake told me the real 'symptoms' you had earlier. And from what I see, I think I know what's going on.”

Sceptical eyes raised until they met lilac ones. Weiss wasn't sure if she could trust the blonde, not on these matters, but she was the only one the heiress had in that moment. “Am I really sick?”

Yang smiled tenderly before answering: “No, dear. You simply hadn't had a chance to vent for a while, that's all.”

“That's not true, you and me...”

“That was two months ago. Since then, it was a test or a mission every day, a stress factor after another and you always went to bed early with the most tired face.” Yang stepped in the shower, not caring about her uniform getting wet, and carefully hugged Weiss, letting the heiress lean against her body before rocking her sideways, to calm her. “Don't worry. You're not like this. You just had to postpone taking care of your needs, of yourself, for a little too much time, that's it.”

The soothing voice, the reasoned words, the brawler's warm embrace: it all added up, helping Weiss and slowly normalizing her breath. Only when she was completely calm, she raised her head and looked at Yang: “Thank you,” she said with a low voice.

“My pleasure. Now, let me wash you properly,” the blonde added, already grabbing the bottle of fruits-scented soap.

Yang took her task seriously, using as much tact as she could as she brushed every inch of Weiss' skin. When it came to wash her between her legs, she hugged the heiress from behind and waited for her to allow her to do so before continuing. Avoiding any unnecessary contact, she wiped away the sticky layer that had formed around Weiss' core and along her inner thighs, finishing before the heiress' body could register those touches.

Once finished, Yang turned off the water and, still holding Weiss, accompanied her out of the shower. Then, hugging the heiress as tight as she could, Yang activated her semblance for a quick burst of dry heat, almost immediately drying both of them.

“You'll look like a mess,” Weiss said tiredly, pulling without strength the blonde's blouse.

“Better than you, surely. Now get back to bed, I'll finish tidying up here.”

The heiress nodded and, after bringing in the brawler for a quick kiss, she slowly walked towards her bed. In the main room, she noticed, Yang had put her nightgown on her bed, while her panties were nowhere in sight. Not wanting to ask if she had taken them for her personal collection, she sat on her bed and got into the soft fabric before laying under the blankets.

After a minute Yang exited the bathroom, holding both the vibrator and the empty Dust vial: she went for the wardrobe and, after opening Weiss' drawer, she put away the two objects, the toy in its box and the vial beside it. After closing the drawer, she turned around and walked towards the already dozing off heiress. “How are you feeling?” she asked, sitting beside Weiss.

“Better. Thank you, Yang.”

“Hey, don't sweat it. You should thank me because I walked in before Blake or, worse, Ruby. That would have been a real problem.”

Both girls laughed, relieved by how things turned out. Weiss looked at the brawler for a little more, before asking: “Did you really went to lesson without any underwear?”

Yang bent over and kissed her briefly. “Sleep, princess. I'll set up an all-nighter with the others when you'll feel better, but for now it's best if you rest.” The heiress tried to reply, but the brawler's expression allowed none of that: “No. Believe me when I say it's better that way.”

Weiss still pouted a little, but made herself comfortable on the pillow. “Fine. But I want dibs on Pyrrha.”

Yang laughed: “Okay, okay, whatever you want.” She got up and went for the door, stopping just to turn for a moment and say: “Sleep well.” Then, she exited and locked the door behind her.

Weiss found herself alone, again. She could still feel the tingling sensation in her stomach, weakened by her long shower, but she decided to follow Yang's advice. After spending a minute controlling her breath, she felt her whole body relaxing and her mind shutting down: without strength to resist, she let herself fall into the soothing darkness, and fell asleep.


End file.
